New Year's Kiss
by Cheetay
Summary: Denmark is tired of Norway dodging his advances and devises a plan to find out whether the Norwegian returns his feelings, or truly hates him. New Year's countdown! Rated for mild swearing, slightly suggestive scenes, etc. Lots and lots of pairings and characters; I tried to have fun with it.
1. December 29, am

**So I had meant to put this up earlier today (well, seeing as it's 12:45am here I suppose it would have been yesterday) but it was a busy day, I apologize.**

**So this is a story idea that hit me in 2012, was forgotten about in 2013, and finally finished in 2014 (yay!) Denmark is fed up with Norway's avoiding his advances, and decides to make a move to finally see whether he holds the Norwegian's heart. Or... something (ahaha)**

**Lukas=Norway**

**Warnings: [slightly] Suggestive scenes, mild swearing, and the gayness that comes with Hetalia.  
>I own nothing, except maybe the idea.<br>**

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><p>The blonde sighed, bringing a hand up to gently massage his left temple before narrowing his eyes at the man across from him. An hour ago the idiot came barging into his house whining about his friend's party. Quite honestly, he didn't care at all. Mathias was just an <em>annoying idiot<em> that needed to leave him the hell alone. Six or more times a week this would happen; the stupid Dane would barge into his house (no matter _how_ many times he changed the locks) and bug the crap out of him.

Deep down he didn't… _mind_, exactly, but it was still annoying. The Dane's clingy, energetic, loud nature just burrowed its way under Lukas' skin. His visits are much too frequent and usually occur at the worst time possible. Completely anno-

"Norge!" The 'idiot' frowned. "Are you listening?" He asked, leaning in closer to the blond to stare him in the eye.

It took a lot of composure for the Norwegian not to jump, nor blush, when he realized he had been staring at the Dane.

He quickly scoffed, narrowing his eyes, "I don't really care."

"Noooorge...!" the other man whined, "I want to have a New Year's Eve party! And it has to be better than the Christmas Party Gilbert threw!"

"I still don't care" Lukas deadpanned. That party was hell; Mathias had dragged him there and he had a horrible time. He ended up sitting on a couch for _almost_ the entire time, reading, until that drunken idiot England and his loud-mouth boyfriend decided to "use" the couch… His lip curled in disgust at the memory.

"And I refuse to come." he added, standing up.

"But-!" Mathias stopped, pouting. "You have to come, Lukas… please?"

The smaller Nordic narrowed his eyes, staring down at the Danes kicked-puppy look. Stupid… that stupid look…

"If I come, you must promise to leave me alone until then _and_ to not annoy me at the actual party." He seethed, glaring. He could never win with the Dane—he couldn't comprehend the reason why, either.

"DEAL!" The Danish man practically squealed, latching his arms around the Norwegian in a bear hug.

Lukas failed to keep the blood from rushing to his cheeks this time. Cursing under his breath he shoved Mathias away and fled, throwing a: 'that starts now, you idiot!' over his shoulder

Mathias merely grinned.

However, this wasn't like his normal, idiotic, carefree grin. Oh no, this was a grin of a man with a seemingly fool-proof plan.

He stood up, complying with the soon-to-be-his Norwegian, and left without another word.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Gilbert stretched, his back arching from the caramel-colored bed sheets that were not his own. Right away he registered the lack of body warmth beside him and frowned, blinking at the empty space. Growling, the Prussian rolled off the bed and went off in search of his significant other... but not before slipping his boxers back on, of course.

He descended the familiar staircase cautiously and peaked into the kitchen. With a grin on his face he stalked quietly into the bright and delicious smelling room.

"Matty~!" He purred, wrapping his arms tightly around his prey's waist. The slim blond squeaked, a bright blush blooming onto his face.

"G-good morning Gil" The Canadian greeted, smiling through his blush in a seemingly dazed way. Gilbert just grinned, kissing his cheek and cooing "Mornin'!"

This caused the shy Canadian to flush an even darker red and repeat his greeting. "M-morning..."

A large smirk stretched across Gilbert's face. "Last night was a lotta fun, you know" he placed his lips on the crest of the Canadian's ear and purred; "I absolutely _love_ hockey night... _especially_ when your team loses... you're so aggressive, Birdie~"

The awesome ex-nation then laughed quietly as Matthew's face erupted into an even _darker_ shade of red. Gilbert was about to make a move when…

"What the **_hell _**are you doing to my brother?"

He was abruptly stopped by the Olympic gold medal cock-blocker.

Gilbert huffed, tilting his head ever so slightly away from Matthew's neck to see a fuming American and an annoyed Brit. He then smirked as he pulled the blushing Canadian closer against his bare body. "What? Does it _bother_ you that I seize his vital regions as mine?" He snickered, slowly sliding his hand down Matthew's stomach. "Gil…!" Matthew hissed under his breath, shooting a mortified glare at the albino.

A growl erupted from Alfred's throat, his blue eyes glistening with pure hatred. "_GET AWAY FROM HIM!_" He snarled, lunging.

"Alfred. Relax" Arthur ordered, quickly grabbing the obnoxious nation and tugging sharply on the back of his shirt. Alfred snarled lowly but obeyed, glaring venomously at the Awesome Prussian. "And you" The English man snapped, "Go put some bloody clothes on, you moron!"

"Kesesesese..." the albino cackled before releasing the vibrantly red Canadian and sauntering upstairs with a "As you wish, Artie~"

The Brit scowled and grumbled: "_Don't_ call me that you stupid twit..." Unfortunately – or, rather, fortunately – the Prussian didn't hear him and quickly slipped into his jeans from yesterday and a clean, awesome shirt depicting a group of fluffy yellow chicks clustered around a magnet.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Matthew was sheepishly avoiding his brother's disapproving glare.

"Oh let him be, Alfred." Arthur dismissed, walking over to lightly embrace the Canadian.

Matthew sighs quietly, but returns the Brit's hug none the less. A small smile played lightly on his lips. This caused Alfred to frown (as he was still peeved at the earlier molestation of his brother) and grudgingly trot over to the two, trapping both slim blonds in a tight, possessive hug.

"A-ah! Al I-I can't... b-breath!"  
>"Alfred you bloody… g-get <em>off<em>!"

Gilbert re-entered the kitchen, snickering "Hey Alfie! Don't kill them, that'd be so unawesome!"

Glaring, the loud-mouthed nation released the two smaller nations and curled his lip up in a small snarl. "Don't call me 'Alfie' you damn albino!" he snarled, darkened blue eyes narrowing dangerously.

Arthur and Matthew sighed, mutually deciding to ignore the two idiots and to instead catch up with one another.

Gilbert smirk just grew as he and the American entered a stare/glare down, both oblivious to what the other partners were doing. This when on for a few minutes before…

**_"Beep beep, come pick me up!"_** A robotic voice rang out into the room.

The foursome paused, interrupted by the annoying voice signaling the Prussian was being called. Gilbert's gaze tore away from Alfred's and settled on Matthew's pants.

Walking over to the confused Canadian, he dipped a hand into Matthew's front left pocket, smirking. "How'd this get in there?" He snickered, watching as the others face become red once again (was it healthy to make the Canadian that shade so many times a day?). The Prussian let his hand linger in the pocket for a moment, staring defiantly at Alfred while simultaneously smirking at the expression on Matthew's face. Finally, he retrieved his phone and flipped it open.

"Ja?" he answered, still smirking smugly at the pissed American.

_"Hej Gilbo! It's me, Mathias."_ A voice erupted through the cell.

"Eh? Oh hey! What's up Danny?" he greeted, grinning.

_"Lots of stuff. Listen, I need a favor and I promise to pay ya back for it."_

"My awesome self is listening..." The ex-nation drawled out, ignoring how the others rolled their eyes.

_"Call all your buddies. New Year's Eve party at my place- the big one up North"_ he explained, _"Its European only so don't go telling people like Russia. But you and Artie are free to bring your North American boy toys."_

Gilbert frowned slightly at this, eyeballing Alfred, "Just because Artie has an annoying North American boy toy doesn't mean I do. I got the sexy one." He boasted, chest puffing out proudly.

Matthew blushed bashfully yet again whilst Alfred scowled. Arthur simply sighed, thoroughly used to this kind of banter between the Dane and Prussian.

_"Ja ja, whatever dude"_ The Dane dismissed, a grin evident in his voice. _"Will you do it?"_

"Fine" Gilbert yawned, "but I expect to be treated with some _good_ beer. As in,_ German_ be-"

_"Alright cool! Call everyone for me, but not Lizzy. I need to talk to her myself."_ Mathias interrupted, sounding slightly anxious.

"Fine!" The Prussian huffed, "I'll see ya there, Danny."

_"Ja, see ya Gilbo"_ The other said before the line went dead.

Gilbert turned to the three blonds, grinning at Arthur "Looks like we're goin' to Danny's the 31st!"

"Ah, so that's what that was about" The Brit mused, sipping some tea that** [magically appeared]** Matthew had just given him.

Gilbert nodded, smirking, "He said European's only too, so... sorry Alfie~"

Alfred narrowed his eyes angrily, growling out through his teeth: "Then you can't take my brother you f-"

"Oh stop this- both of you! Mathias doesn't care if you and Matthew come." Arthur cut in, glowering.

"Fine" Gilbert pouted, wrapping his arms back around Matthew's waist. The Canadian's face erupted red once again as the albino began to nuzzle his neck. He then pulled away and placed a kiss to his blond hair, "But now the awesome me needs to go make some phone calls. So just... do whatever the hell you came here to do" He laughed, nodding to Arthur before leaving.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The man sighed, running his fingers through his slick blond hair. It was 11 o'clock and he was _still_ sleeping. That was unacceptable. Ludwig knows it's the "Italian's way" to sleep in but... today it was unacceptable.

Why? Because this was one of Ludwig's very few "free days." Usually he would be working, or studying, or doing _something_ productive. But today was different... or, rather, the past week had been different- **very** different. His boss had "given" him the holidays off... (Read as "Forced him to take off from work and relax for two weeks")

It wasn't his fault that he, unlike most nations he knew, was _very_ interested in helping his country and taking part in running the economy and government of his people.

And so, for the past week, Feliciano had been up by the crack of 9 (or 9:30), bugging Ludwig to go do something together. Which, of course, he always did because he couldn't say no to the Italian.

The German shook his head, groaning as a light blush surfaced on his cheeks. Feliciano had too much power over him and the blond didn't know what to do about it. Sighing, the bulky blond stood and walked towards thei- **_his _**bedroom.

What he found was not what he had been anticipating... not by a long shot. What he found was Feliciano sitting on the bed, _naked_ and talking animatedly on the phone.

"Ve~ that does sound awesome!" The bubbly Italian giggled, "And you said fratello and Big Brother Antonio would be there too, right?" Feliciano asked, eyes sparkling, "Yeah! Of course we'll be there!"

Another giggle was then given in response to whoever was on the other line.

Ludwig frowned, eyebrows creasing ever so slightly. Who was he talking to?

"Sì sì I'll make sure Luddy's not ina poopy mood!" The Italian finished, still grinning happily and oblivious to Ludwig's presence. "Ve~ Ciao! We'll see you then, then!"

Feliciano then hung up and set the phone back on the bed-side table, finally noticing Ludwig standing in the doorway.

With an excited: "Ve, Luddy!" the slim, _nude_, Italian lunged at Ludwig, tackling him to the ground and enveloping him in a tight hug. "I missed you!"

Blushing, the stocky blond hesitantly returns the hug; hyper aware of the fact that Feliciano had no clothes on.

"Ja... morning... um, Feliciano?" Ludwig began, clearing his throat and carefully sitting up, trying to gently unlatch the brunette. This failed, obviously, and only caused Feliciano to shift into his lap, hugging Ludwig with a... rather strong grip.

"Who were you, um... on the phone with?" He questioned, ceasing his escape attempt.

Feliciano blinked, tilting his head in thought. Ludwig resisted the need to facepalm.

The Italian's eyes then lit up in remembrance. "Ve! It was Gilbert!" The brunette explained, nuzzling Ludwig's neck in a seemingly thoughtful, innocent way. "He invited us to a New Year's Eve party at Denmark's house!" He continued, beaming up at the German, "Sounds like fun, neh, Ludwig?"

The bulky Germany stood up and the Italian followed, plopping back down next to him on the bed. "Luddy?" Feliciano cooed gently, nuzzling his shoulder questioningly as he waited for an answer.

"Um... ja..." he replied hesitantly, clearing his throat once again.

Cautiously he looked over to Feliciano's slim form. "Um... Feliciano?" he started, extremely curious as to why Italian wasn't wearing any clothes. He used to wear none when sleeping but, recently, Ludwig had persuaded (and ordered) him to at least wear some underwear. And, honestly, the Italian had been wearing them when the German had woken up in the morning.

"Sì, Luddy? What is it?"

"Where... where are your clothes?"

"Ve?" Feliciano paused, looking down at himself. "Oh right! I was about to shower before Gil called!" He replied, grinning in his Feliciano way.

"Ah" Ludwig grunted, nodding slightly, relieved it wasn't for any other reason (aka his brother or his moronic friends). He pecked Feliciano lightly on the forehead before asking "What do you want to do today, anyway?"

The brunette hummed drowsily, nuzzling up to Ludwig once again. "We could go for a walk..." he murmured, yawning, "Pero... iovoglio... I wanna sleep some more..."

The blond German chuckled softly "I thought you were going to shower?" he almost teased.

The Italian groaned, snuggling further into the bulky German, "Don't wanna..."

His amber eyes then brightened mischievously, "Unless you come with me!" He giggled, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Will you? _Please _Luddy?"

Much to Ludwig's annoyance, a light blush began to creep up his face. "I-um..."

Ludwig could gain control of a world meeting, no matter what kind of chaotic fighting or events were occurring. He could lift heavy loads that most men, even some countries, couldn't. He's been through wars, depression, and more. He's been through a lot and had always survived. He... well, he's done a lot of things in his life- whether he is proud or not about them. Yet he cannot, **_could not, _**keep his face from blushing around Feliciano... nor his heart from beating faster... nor his lips from smiling...

He could definitely not say no to his little Italian.

"Ve, please Ludwig...?" Feliciano asked again, pouting cutely. "After we shower we can eat something, then take a nap... a-and then maybe take a walk... and we could make pasta together later! Then w-"

Ludwig cleared his through quietly, effectively cutting off the rambling Italian, yet trying in vain to calm his damn blush. "Ja... that's fine... it sound's fun, Feli..."

The eyes looking up at him brightened significantly and Feliciano's mouth curled into a brilliant grin. "Really? Yay!" he cheered, jumping off the bed. He latched onto Ludwig's sleeve and began to tug.

With a small smile, Ludwig allowed Feliciano to drag him off towards the bathroom.

Just another normal day with the two nations...

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><p><strong>Constructive criticism is well used and appreciated :) Lemme know what you thought!<strong>

**Second part/chapter will be up in a moment. Again, sorry for already falling behind! I have 6-7 chapters planned out for this, including an epilogue. A count down to New Years, in a way.**

**Hope you enjoyed it!**

_**~Cheetay**_


	2. December 29, pm

**Second part. Again, sorry I failed to get it up on time!**

**Hetalia no be'eth mine.**

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><p>Mathias stopped and turned the keys in his truck, silencing the engine.<p>

"_Pokker Sverige_" he cursed under his breath, jumping out of his pick-up and slamming the door shut. "Why they hell does he have to live in the middle of nowhere?" the Dane grumbled quietly, glaring at the snow-bounded road ahead of him that was absolutely impossible to drive through. Perfect.

Pocketing his keys, he pulled his trench coat closer to his body and began to push through the thick, heavy snow. Snow continued to fall around him as he trudged forward.

OoOoOoOoOo

After nearly an hour of walking, freezing, cursing, and tripping a few times, a large, pale blue house finally came to view inside a tree-encircled field.

Racing up, the snowy Dane knocked loudly on the antique wooden door (most likely Swedish made).

"Tino...! Tino, åbnedøren!" he yelled, knocking increasing in volume. The wind blew around him angrily, as if trying to push him away from the house.

"Wh't do ya w'nt, Danm'rk?" A deep voice rumbled from the other side of the door.

"Warmth!" The Dane whined, ceasing his knocking, "It's freaking cold out here, Sverige!"

"..." There was the sound of footsteps making their way away from the door, then silence.

Mathias frowned, eyebrows creasing together with annoyance. "Hej! You røv! Don't walk away! Open the door!" (ass) He yelled, resuming his attack on the door. He paused a second later, faintly catching two voices inside the house. The ever-curious, freezing cold Dane pressed a numb ear up to the door and listened.

"...can't we let him in, Berwald?" a soft voice asked- Tino.

"B'cause. You know how M'thias is, he wants som'thin'" Berwald's much deeper voice growled.

"But it's cold outside..." Tino protested, worry evident in his voice. "And he came all the way up here..."

"So?"

There was a pause, then a quiet sigh from the Berwald. Finally: "Fine. Let'm in"

A second later the lock clicked and the door was opened to reveal a smiling Tino. "Come on in!" The Finnish man greeted, stepping aside.

The Dane immediately entered the home and brushed the snow out of his hair, "Damn it's bad up here!" He commented, grinning at Tino, "Tak!" (Thank you) He then shot a glare over to the large Swedish man who was... blushing?

Now that he looked... Tino _was_ wearing a shirt that looked a lot like one of Berwald's older shir- NO! Mathias shook his head quickly. He refused to let a thought like that even_ think_ about entering his mind, damn it!

"S-so um... what brings you here Mathias...?" Tino asked, hanging up the Dane's coat up to dry, a slight blush still dusting his cheeks.

"Glad you ask!" Mathias exclaimed, recovered from his moment of disgust. Grinning, he slung an arm around the small Fin's shoulders. Ignoring the low growl Berwald emitted, the Danish man continued: "I'm having a New Year's Eve party at my big northern house! Well... it would be south from here I guess" he added, tilting his head slightly in thought.

"Anyway! I came _ALL_ the way up here to invite you Tino!"

The Finnish man blinked, glancing at Berwald sheepishly, "I... don't think I can, Mathias... sorry..."

The obnoxious, spiky blond pouted, "But Luke's gonna be there!" He protested, "... you can even bring Sverige!"

"He s'd no" Berwald growled, leaning against a nearby wall. His expression was still that of annoyance, but he looked more relaxed than earlier- calmer. He was used to dealing with the stupid Dane, after all.

Tino looked up at Berwald, then back to Mathias hesitantly. "W-well... it would be nice to see Lukas again..." the small man murmured wearily, looking back to Berwald, "And it... sounds like it would be fun..."

"Plus you guys can leave whenever!" Mathias piped in, shooting a knowing grin to the Berwald.

Berwald narrowed his eyes at the Dane, but simply shrugged, grunting a "whatever" over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen.

Tino smiled, "That actually works out perfectly, too- Peter's at a friend's house for the week. Now" the Fin's face grew curious, "Why would you come all the way up here instead of calling...?"

"Well, to see you of course Tino!" The Dane's grin then slowly dissolved into a slight frown, "Plus... Norge... made me promise not to bother him in exchange for him coming to the party..." Mathias grumbled. He didn't understand... all he ever did was show Lukas he loved him: gifts, hugs, little kisses on the forehead (and other places- when he could).

But all the Norwegian did was push him away; punching, shoving, choking, and changing the locks on his house. It got annoying after a while but... he loved the Norwegian, and he wanted that to at least be _acknowledged_. And, technically, Lukas hasn't ever come right out saying he hated the Dane.

Tino cleared his throat, bringing Mathias out of his thoughts. "Sorry about that..." he fidgeted, not looking at Mathias. "We'll be there though, okay?"

The Danish man forced a large grin, thoughts still swimming through his mind. "Great! Make sure you keep Luke entertained, m'kay?" He called, grabbing his coat before running back out into the snow.

The Finnish man blinked, watching Mathias begin to run down and away from the house. "Strange..." he murmured, shutting the door.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The snowflakes fell, landing silently and adding to the glistening white snow already blanketing the ground. The wind was blowing gently, weaving through and tugging at the tree branches whilst slightly altering the course of the snowfall.

Silence filled the Northern Norwegian forest as the wind continued its gentle pulling and the snow continued its peaceful fluttering. The sky was fairly clear and the sun could be seen through the thin clouds, lazily beginning its decent and bathing the sky with rich, warm colors.

All of a sudden, a soft crunch was heard. The sound of feet moving quietly through the snow echoed in the otherwise empty forest as the single pair of feet made its way through the pure and untouched landscape.

The disturber was slowly ambling through the forest, savoring the peace and beauty as snow fell lightly around him.

Lukas' lips twitched up in one of his rare smiles; one that only a special few had the privilege to witness. He loved the snow: the way it made the landscape look perfect and pure, the way it made the air taste clean and crisp.

He couldn't help but smile at the breath-taking beauty of it. The Norwegian often liked to take walks, especially when the snow was newly fallen as it was now.

Lukas days normally consisted of reading, doing paperwork, or being outside enjoying the grace of his land.

It was rare for him to do anything outside of those options. Quite honestly, the only times his activities varied was when he would decide to take a rare visits to Iceland, Sweden, Finland or… when the stupid Dane decided to visit or kidnap him.

He tilted his head up to gaze between the tree's branches, watching as the sun continued its steady downwards trek. The wind gently caressed his face and the snowflakes left cool kisses on his cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips.

He sighed, the tall Danish man burrowing his way back into the Norwegian's head. It wasn't that he hated the stupid Dane… just that, well…

Every time Mathias was near him, Luka's skin would always prickle with some emotion. He had assumed it was hatred at first, then later he pegged it as annoyance, frustration, anger…

He loathed admitting it, but he knew it was none of those.

Every time the Dane was around, Lukas found his heart would speed up slightly and he couldn't focus on anything. On top of that he felt the desire to _look_ at the Dane—to study him. He gradually found himself enjoying the small touches, the friendly pats, even the hugs!

Yet he always pushed Mathias away. He refused to admit he "liked" the personification of Denmark. Refused to... to acknowledge that he wanted the Dane to, well, like him... and be with him... and even lov-

He gritted his teeth together, shaking his head violently. _'Stop it, Norway!_' He refused to admit to liking the Dane back! Refused, dammit!

His mind then jumped to the deal he and Mathias had made earlier that morning.

"There's no way that idiot could leave me alone for nearly three days" The Norwegian muttered under his breath, watching how the air puffed out of his mouth as he did so.

A feeling similar to worry squirmed in his stomach, though.

Mathias was known for being not only stupid, but also excessively stubborn. Realistically, the Dane could easily find some other way to amuse himself until the New Year's Eve party.

He shook his head to force away the worrying thought. There was no way the Dane could stay away from him that long. Even if he did, though, it wouldn't ('_shouldn't'_) bother the Norwegian. He had plenty of other ways to spend his day then yelling and fighting with the Danish man...

Like reading... or working... or taking more walks in the fresh, gorgeous snow.

Lukas decided to continue walking through the woods until the moon began to rise high in the sky. He had too many thoughts spiraling through his mind that had to be sorted and cleared.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The train moved at a high velocity, blurring the passing landscapes and creating a stripe of dark blue, shadowed green, and ghostly white. The sun was just barely visible on the horizon, sinking away to the other side of the world.

Head resting against the window pane, Mathias watched dully as the fields, woods, and cities flew by. His thoughts were saturated with worries, hopes, and one little Norwegian.

A heavy sigh clouded up the window. Closing his eyes he forced himself to think positive—he was getting help from Elizaveta and no one was better at plotting this stuff than her.

The speaker fizzled on and an announcement was made that the train had crossed out of Austria and into Hungary. That meant that his stop should be next; Elizaveta had agreed to meet the Dane at the train stop closest to her boarder with the Pianist.

He quickly went through his head and sorted out the details of his plan; the first part was already in play. It wasn't perfect, but that was why he was going to Hungary.

OoOoOoOoOo

He staggered off the train and onto the platform, legs stiff from all the sitting he had to do.

Adjusting the scarf around his neck, he scanned over the nearby crowd he tried to locate the female. He frowned when he failed to do so.

"Hi Mat."

The Dane spun around to find the subject of his searching. A grin stretched across his face.

"There ya are, Liz!"

The woman nodded off into the distance. "There's a café nearby, why don't we talk there?"

Silently Mathias followed after Elizaveta.

"So what's going on?" she asked, settling into a chair.

"Well… I'm kind of tired of pining after Norway and him being all indifferent. I wanted to figure out if he liked me at all, so I decided to throw a New Year's Eve party and find out" He explained, watching the Hungarian's face for any reactions.

"I figured I would leave him alone for a few days so he could get his thoughts together without me interrupting… I already got him to agree to come to the party, but I'm not too sure where to do from here." He finished quietly with a sigh.

"So what, are you going to kiss him at midnight?" Elizaveta asked, eyes brightening. "I think that sounds really romantic, and it would be obvious to Norway that you love him."

"I mean… I was going to talk to him at the party and try to figure out if-"

She shook her head "No no. You want my advice, Mathias? Here's what you're going to do" she smirked, leaning towards the tall blond.

Blinking, Mathias also leaned in to hear the plan the Hungarian had.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It was dark and bitterly cold when Mathias finally made it home. He had to admit, talking with Hungary was a big help. With her help he had perfected his plan; all that was left now was to prepare and strengthen his resolve for the party.

This had to work. If it didn't, Lukas may never speak to him again.

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><p><strong>There you have it! Again, constructive criticism is adored!<strong>

**Next part/day will be up sometime tomorrow (er... today? Ahahah it's 1:00am here now...I need sleep). See you tomorrow!**

_**~Cheetay**_


	3. December 30

**SO yesterday was busy (went out to my local zoo with friends and then went to a party) and today was also busy (woke up late and didn't get out of bed til almost 1) and then I had to drive an hour to drop my car off to get fixed and-bleh. Here's the next chapter.**

**Thank you all so much, everyone who followed and favorited!**

**I own nothing Hetalia related.  
>Additional chapter warning: Romano's potty mouth and a pissed albino Germa-Prussian, Prussian... *slinks off*<br>**

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><p><strong>December 30, am<strong>

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**_Ring~! Ring~! Ring~! Ring~! Ring~! Ri-"_**

"Who the fuck do you think you are calling this early in the fucking morning." A thoroughly pissed Italian spat into his boyfriend's cell phone.

Yeah, that's right. Boyfriend. How, you ask? Let's just say that the Christmas party had some _interesting_ results to it.

_"Oh, it's you!"_ A voice- sounding like a smug Gilbert- sounded from the stupid phone. _"First, it's ten, so it's not early. Second, where's Toni?"_

"Non so, non mi interessa" (don't know, don't care) Lovino grumbled, sitting up and yawning. "Why the hell are you calling?"

_"Well, I _wanted_ to talk to Toni, but I guess you'd do too"_ Gilbert replied, chuckling.

"Like I want to talk to you" Lovino growled sourly. He then sighed, sitting up and letting the sheets pool around his waist. "Alright, whatever. You have my attention for a bit- what do you want asshole?"

_"Soo charming, Lovi, I-"_

"Call me 'Lovi' again and I'll castrate you, bastard." The grumpy Italian interrupted, standing up. There was no use going back to sleep now that he was up. Plus, he wanted to know where the hell Antonio went.

_"Fine, Romano"_ The albino snickered through the phone_._ Lovino growled, but said nothing. _"There's a New Year's Eve party Mathias – or Denmark I guess you'd know his as..."_ The Prussian added quietly. _"Anyway! He's throwing a party."_

"Why the hell should I care about that?" He asked, pulling a pair of pants on. Don't get the wrong ideas! Just because he slept in his boxers- **BOXERS**_-_ doesn't mean he and the Spaniard... _did it_ yet. And even if they _did_, it was no one's business, dammit.

Lovino's face flushed as red as a tomato and he cursed quietly. He shouldn't be thinking about that- especially while on the phone with that perverted ex-nation...

_"Oh? What was that Lovino?"_ An amused voice almost _purred_ (was it just him, or was this bastard starting to sound too much like the French one?)

"Sh-shut up!" Lovino snapped, scowling, "Just tell me why the hell I should bother even _mentioning_ this party to Antonio. At your party he got shit faced and-"

_"Finally made the move on you. Sheesh Lovino, you have weird ways of thanking people. Just tell Toni and be there. It'll be fun, I'm even bringing Matty!"_

"…fine" he grumbled, "But just because I like Matthew and don't want him to be alone with all you bastards!" he then hung up, tossing the phone back on the bed. Might as well go inform his stupid Spaniard about their **new **New Year's Eve plans.

He blushed again. He had forgot about that... dammit!

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Blue eyes scanned the items on his kitchen counter once more, making sure he had everything he needed for tomorrow night. He knew for a fact that Gilbert and his many other friends would be drinking- likely including Arthur. No matter what the Brit said, he would never turn down good alcohol at a party.

Mathias chuckled, amusing himself momentarily by thinking about how Arthur would probably spend the first hour of the party trying to decide whether or not to drink, only to finally resolve against it. Then, about a half-hour later he'll talk himself into having one drink and then end up drinking for the rest of the night until he was beyond drunk.

_'Unless he decides to "spend time" with his boy toy'_ the Dane thought, laughing. That was usually how his and Gilbert's parties went for the Englishman—never dull and always entertaining.

Once more he scanned his refrigerator, making sure he had everything he needed for the dishes. He had an assortment of foods in mind to prepare, not just Danish food but German (Gilbert would end up pouting and whining all night if he didn't), Hungarian (He owed Elizaveta for her... _advice_), and, of course, Norwegian.

"I guess I'll start making the desserts now... and wait to do the appetizers tomorrow..." He mused, closing his fridge and grabbing his apron off its hook.

He slipped the dark, blood-red apron over his clothes and set to work, thinking about other ways he could impress Lukas besides making kransekake and multekrem*.

With a happy sigh the Dane grabbed the recipes he had printed out for various desserts he had never made before. He also grabbed his yellowed, hand-written recipes for kransekake*, and coffee cake.

The decision he had made earlier was to start with the coffee cake before focusing on the Hungarian chimney cakes*, German spice cookies*, and some homemade chocolate. Then he would take a break before making the multekrem*, double checking his fridge's inventory. He would not start on the kransekake until all the other sweets had been completed, as he wanted to spend the most time on that one in order to make it perfect, and fill it with as much love and care as he could.

Another big, optimistic grin stretched across his face. This party would be amazing, he just knew it; so amazing, that Lukas would finally accept him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**December 30, pm**

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Pick up you unawesome bastard..." the man growled, his red eyes flashing in the dimly lit room. He cursed again loudly as the call, yet again, went to voicemail:  
><em>Sorry I can't get to my phone right now, I am likely busy. Please leave a message and I'll call you back when I can. Adieu, mon cher~<em>

"Verdammt!" He yelled, throwing his cell phone to the ground in his anger. "What the hell Francis!" The albino fumed, "Where the fuck are you?" He snarled, glaring at the cell phone with enough intensity to possibly set in on fire with his directed awesomeness.

He had managed to call all of the European nations to invite them to Denmark's party, and all except a few agreed to come…  
>Iceland was spending New Year's Eve with his Asian boyfriend and his family, Greece was spending it with his cats and the socially awkward Japan, Poland was apparently "grounded" by his boss for skipping work to go shopping too many times, England's brothers were going out drinking, Netherlands was planning on staying home and getting high, he didn't even bother inviting Switzerland, and who the fuck knew where France was.<p>

He still had to call a few more nations, though. Like Austria, the Baltics, Belgium, and a few others.

Deciding to take a break from calling the Frenchmen, Gilbert scrolled through his contacts and pressed send once he found the contact "piano brat."

It rang four times before a sigh was heard. _"What do you want, Gilbert."_

"I just thought you wanted to hear my awesome voice, R-"

_"Spare me the headache, please. Elizaveta has already informed me of the party, so there is little reason for me to stay on the phone with you. Good bye."_

Gilbert frowned as the line went dead. He touched his phone again and began to type something, changing Roderich's contact name to "prissy bitch."

Brushing the conversation off, he decided to try the Frenchman again. This time it went right to voicemail:  
><em>Sorry I can't get to my phone right now, please leave a message and I'll call you back when I can. If I don't answer it is because I am currently doing something more important than conversing with you—please do not keep calling. That means you, Gilbert.<em> …Beep.

"You little fucking shithead! You saw I was trying to get ahold of you and you not only ignore me, but find time to fucking _change your voicemail recording_?! When I get my hands on you, Francis, I'm going to fucking kill you! I'm going to dig up mein awesome crop and use it to beat you—I'm going to take your saggy, overused balls and twist them until they fall off! Don't think I'm fucking kidding. You can't ignore the awesome me when I'm trying to get ahold of you, you French assh-"

The message cut off due to length, enraging the Prussian enough for him to hurl the phone against the wall. The force of the impact caused little bits of plastic phone carnage to fly across the floor.

"…well then" he huffed, realizing what the French-induced fit of anger caused. "Guess I gotta use Matty's phone to call the rest of 'em up."

And with that, the awesome Prussian left the room in search of his Canadian.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_"In a word, I was too cowardly to do what I knew to be right, as I had been too cowardly to avoid doing what I knew to be wrong-"_

"Artie!"

_'And there's the quiet reading time interruption. A bit later than usually, actually'_' the Englishman though with a quite sigh as he placed a laminated bookmark into the worn and yellowing book. He said nothing as he set it in his lap and looked up at the intruding American, waiting. The normally energetic blond looked rather perplexed as he fidgeted with his fingers and bit his lip.

"What is it, Alfred?" Arthur asked, calmly looking up at his partner.

"I, uh, I need some… advice" he muttered, avoiding the brilliant green eyes of the Brit.

An eyebrow was raised at the uncharacteristic behavior. "'Ask no questions and you'll be told no lies'" he quoted, reopening his book. A growl emerged from Alfred's lips—the desired response.

"That's not what I meant Art, and you know it! I'm trying to be serious here."

A small chuckle escaped from the Brit as he grabbed Alfred's hand. "Oh? Very well, what do you need advice on, poppet?"

The larger hand engulfed the smaller one, nervously linking their fingers together. "I may have, um…" he trailed off, looking torn. '_What could he have done to make him so skittish?'_ Arthur thought, placing a kiss on the American's knuckles to gently encourage him to continue.

Yet, just like that, the vulnerability faded and the blond quickly detached his hand from the Englishmen's and forced out a loud laugh to conceal his worry.

"I may have accidentally put one of your sweaters in the drier" came the cover-up confession.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, intently studying the male in front of him. He could tell Alfred was lying, but could not think of a reason why—what could he have done? What action was bad enough to breed that look of nervousness and weakness?

He decided to play along, sighing internally. Green eyes narrowed and a firm frown formed on the Englishman's lips. "Excuse me, but what did you do?"

Another laugh came from the American's lips, a little less forced than the last one but still filled with pseudo-nervousness. "It was an accident, but I think I ruined it. Sorry!"

"You insufferable-! How dare you, you bloody twat!" Arthur's nose wrinkled. He could feel genuine anger bubbling up inside of him—he now doubted that Alfred was lying.

"It's a good think though Art, really! You shouldn't be wearing such stiff, stuffy old clothing! Ya need some fresh, modern stuff!" the blue-eyed blond laughed, his true and radiant grin starting to reappear.

"Old and stuffy?! I'll have you know, I am quite comfortable in my sweaters!" Arthur stood from his seat on the couch and began to stalk darkly towards the other male. "You're going to regret ruining it, _dear_."

And thus, the weekly game of chase began as Alfred bolted away, his booming laugh filling every corner of the house.

Really, some people have the strangest ways of dealing with sexual tension. Though, the scene today was a bit different then the past—did Alfred really do something worse than ruining another of Arthur's sweaters?

* * *

><p><strong>So here you have it, part three!<strong>

***Desserts mentioned:**

**multekrem: a traditional Norwegian dessert, made by mixing cloudberries, whipped cream, sugar, and often vanilla together. Often used as a topping on other desserts, such as kransekake.**

**Kransekake: Means wreath cake, known in Danish as Kransekage. It's an almond cake made into rings stacked on top of each other... just search a picture of it. Common dessert for weddings and New Year's eve celebrations. I really want to try making one someday...**

**Hungarian Chimney Cakes: Known as Kürtőskalács in Hungarian...um... originally they were a festive treat, but they're common dessert items now.  
><strong>

**German Spice Cookies: Known as Pfeffernüsse in German, which translates to "pepper nut" or something similar. I've actually had these, and love them. They're cookies made with cinnamon, all spice, and lots of nutmeg and have this hard sugar coating around them. A common holiday cookie that can be dipped in wine.  
><strong>

**See ya'll tomorrow! (oops my American is showing)**

_**~Cheetay**_


	4. December 31

**Ahah...hah. I would have had this up a half hour earlier, but my sister forced us to play a family game of Apples to Apples. Anyway, here's the chapter! Next one is the epilogue and should be up today or tomorrow.**

**I own nothing  
>This chapter might be a little anguish-y... maybe? Well, you'll see <strong>

* * *

><p>December 31, am<p>

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Mathias looked over the tables decorated with the food he had spent the morning and afternoon preparing. He padded back into the kitchen, double checking on the desserts in the fridge and carefully concealed in the cabinets. He would wait to bring them out.

Once again he scanned the food laid out around him, skillfully set up throughout his kitchen. Sausages of various nature, lentil soup, and Danish meatballs made up the hearty appetizers with many, many snacks scattered between them. The desserts were safely tucked away, patiently awaiting their big reveal.

Things had to be perfect and Mathias was nervous that Lukas would become offended in some way and leave before he could carry out his plan. It worried him, making his normal confidence shrivel up to near nothingness.

His phone suddenly started vibrating in his pocket, drawing him away from his Norwegian-centered thoughts. With a quick sigh he recomposed himself before answering with a cheerful "Hej."

_"Mat!"_ Elizaveta's cheerful voice echoed through the device. _"How are preparations going?"_ She questioned, _"I can come over and help set up, if you would like."_

"Actually, I have almost everything ready I just need to…" he swallowed the lump in his throat as he trailed off. The seed of worry continued to swell and grow within his guts; what if Lukas really did hate the party? What if something went terribly wrong? What if…Lukas didn't really feel the same way about the Dane? He let out a shaky breath.

_"Are you worried about what Norway will thing, Mathias?"_ The Hungarian's calming voice sounded. _"Don't stress about it, I'm very sure that our plan will work. Actually, I'm almost positive everything will go according to plan."_

Mathias let out an airy laugh, feeling his shoulders relax and some worry evaporate. "Thanks, Liz. Actually, if you wouldn't mind coming an hour earlier than everyone else?" He lets out another laugh, this one heartier and less forced, "I'll probably be a nervous wreck again by then."

_"I'll be there. Unfortunately Roddy will be coming with me, but I'll set him down with some tea so you and I can talk."_ Elizaveta hummed, giggling.

_"Also,"_ she added as an afterthought, _"Be sure to find that camera charger I left at your house so I can charge my camera when I come. Roderich's protesting my photography and hid me charger."_ She scoffed and a quiet 'bastard' was heard from the line.

The Dane relaxed further as he laughed, "Sounds like a plan, Lizzy. I'll see you then."

_"Bye Mat!"_

He closed his phone with a smile on his face. He could feel the tension melt away and found himself, once again, looking forward to tonight.

He grimaced at the small collection of alcoholic beverages: multiple bottles of different champagne, a couple choices of wine, and a sparse few cases of beer. Not a lick of hard liquor in sight. The feeling of disappointment left him as he recalled why he had decided on the party being light on alcohol—Lukas.

Mathias recalled how annoyed he had seemed at Gilbert's party, as well as two days earlier when he had reluctantly agreed to attend the party. He was more than willing to forfeit the joys of drinking for his Norwegian.

With a nod of his head, he pulled out his phone and scrolled a moment before pressing the call button.

A second later he was informed that the number he was calling was currently not in service. Mathias blinked in confusion before scrolling to the second number listed under "Gilbert."

It rang a few times before a soft voice answered.

"Hey, is Gilbo there? His phone seems to be screwed up."

_"Um, one second Denmark"_ Matthew murmured.

_"Gilbert, come here! What happened to your phone?"_ The seemingly shy Canadian bellowed. Mathias could hear a muffled reply of Gilbert before: _"Seriously Gil, **again**?"  
><span>"Well French-fry was being a little bastard yesterday and I got pissed-"<span>  
>"Your brother's going to kill you for ruining another phone, Gil."<br>"Yeah but-"  
>"Just take the phone and talk to Denmark, idiot…"<em>

A snort of laughter left Mathias' lips as Gilbert finally took the phone and uttered a "yo Danny."

"Hey Gilbo. I gotta favor to ask ya about tonight."

_"Alright, shoot."_

"I'm tryin to impress Lukas at the party tonight, so I need to ask you not to bring any beer or anything."

_"You're kidding me!"_ Gilbert cried, _"Dude if you got Lukas drunk maybe he'd fall for you like Romano did with Antonio."_

Mathias let out a soft chuckle, "No, even Artie could tell they liked each other. Lukas is… much, much colder and doesn't seem to have a temper to lose. Anyway, could you just do me the favor? Don't bring any beer."

_"Alright alright, fine. Not a BYOB party I get it. But you owe me a night out sometime soon, and don't think I'm paying a cent."_

He laughed and affirmed with a "Fine. See ya tonight, Gilbo."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Dull, icy-blue eyes gazed blankly out the window as fluffy white snow fluttered down, joining the trillions of others already on the ground. His warm breath puffed, creating a cloud on the window pane.

His mind, once again, floated in the direction of a certain Dane. Lukas found it hard to believe that he hadn't had contact with the Dane for two whole days… it seemed impossible.

Lukas felt his teeth clench as he hit a few buttons on his phone and brought it to his ear. It rang three times before the man on the other side answered.

"I don't know how much more I can take of this" he admitted, lacing his fingers into his hair. "I seriously cannot stop thinking about him."

The other line was silent for a few moments, save from some breathing. _"What do you want me to do about it?"_

The Norwegian sighed, "I suppose I just need to talk to someone about it."

_"Honestly, I think you're talking to the wrong guy, Luke. You need to get to the source of your problem."_

Lukas sighed again, "Fine. But for now, I need to get my mind off of Mathias. Tell me about how you're spending your night, Emil."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**December 31- pm**

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Lukas sighed yet again from his perch on the Danish man's staircase. From his throne he could see what everyone was doing:

Tino and Berwald were sitting comfortable on the floor by the fireplace, the Finnish man focused on the Lithuanian, Estonian, and Latvian men which he was speaking with. The Fin and Swede had greeted Lukas hours earlier upon his arrival, but quickly integrated themselves into the party (well Tino more than Berwald) while Lukas simply slunk off on to his current position.

America and England were loitering in the kitchen, the loud blond taking advantage of the snacks while Arthur conversed with Prussia and Canada. Actually, more with the Canadian than the ex-nation who seemed rather bored, staring at his half-empty beer bottle.

Northern Italy was sharing sausage with Germany on the couch, close enough to be practically on his lap. There was a healthy blush on the German's cheeks as Italy pecked him on the lips, laughing and enjoying life.

Hungary was weaving through the festivities with her trusted camera, snapping pictures left and right of the happy couples. Trailing behind her was a disgruntled Austrian.

Just then, Mathias entered Lukas' sight as they locked eyes and all the breath flew from his lungs. But just as quick as their eyes met, the Dane pulled his away and headed over to England's group. At the same moment, Spain entered dragging his Italian behind him, quickly entering a conversation with Prussia. The displeased Romano tugged Canada away from the group and headed towards Lukas' safe haven.

"Hey, we're invading the quiet spot, alright?"

"What he means" Matthew quickly corrected, "is may we join you and get away from the crazy for a bit" finishing with a polite smile.

"I suppose so" Lukas replied, shifting over to make more room on the stairs. Matthew took a spot next to him while Lovino perched himself above the two blond nations.

"I'm Canada, by the way. But you can call me Matthew, if you'd like." He murmured, a slightly embarrassed blush seeping onto his cheeks.

"Norway" Lukas muttered quietly, clearing his throat, "You may call me Lukas, if you wish."

Lovino huffed, "Well if you're both going to be that way, fine. Southern Italy, also known as Romano" he grunted, "But my human name is Lovino."

"So are you enjoying the party at all, Nor-um, Lukas?" Matthew asked.

"I don't even know why the fuck I came here" Lovino jumped in, looking for an opening to complain. "Antonio's spending his time jumping from person to person, pretty much ignoring me. I hate it."

Matthew smiles softly, "Yes, well, at least you'll have his full attention when you return home."

Lovino wrinkled his nose at that, yet all the same a bright red erupted upon his face and he fell silent.

"Actually" Lukas quietly answered, "Mathias struck a deal with me that if he would leave me alone I would come to the party… I suppose it's interesting watching everyone, but I can't say I'm truly enjoying myself" he murmured, eyes darting briefly in the Dane's direction.

"Must have something planned" Lovino grunted.

Lukas blinked in surprise. The thought had crossed his mind, but could it be bigger than he had originally thought..?

"Hey, look. It looks like Denmark is taking the desserts out, eh?" Matthew smiled, standing up. "We'd better go before everything's gone."

OoOoOoOoOo

After Lovino was harvested by Spain and Matthew was kidnapped by Prussia (really, he slung the poor boy over his shoulder and lumbered off, saying something along the lines of "You need to try pfeffernüsse dipped in wine, it's fucking awesome!"), Lukas was left alone. Not even Mathias was around, as strange as that was.

It was now approaching 11:30 at night and Lukas had not yet been approached by the Dane. While it definitely didn't bother him (no, not at all), but it was surely strange.

His eyes widened as they fell upon a cake stacked over a foot high, and his mouth fell open slightly at the sight of the bowl placed beside the wreathed mountain.

Lukas felt his lips curve into a soft smile as he helped himself to a treat he hadn't had in years.

But just as calmness seemed to emanate through the Danish home, yelling interrupted it.

The commotion drew Lukas' attention to the scene. Raivis was trembling, Eduard was glaring slightly, and Toris was trying to seem brave as his knees bumped together.

"R-Russia, you're not—what are you doing here?" Toris' voice squeaked out.

"You bastard! Who the fuck invited you?!" Gilbert snarled, Matthew holding him back tightly.

"Ivan, what brings you here?" He murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. More and more nations began to crowd, curious (or terrified) as to why the Russian was here and what he wanted.

"Comrade Alfred told me about the party yesterday evening. He said it was fun and a shame I wasn't invited, so I invited myself to it!"

Almost all eyes turned to the American, who paled guiltily. Without another word his Englishman saved his ass by dragging him away from danger.

The Russian advanced on the three Baltic nations, chuckling darkly "And I can't believe my friends would abandon me for this party, da? Very rude of you~"

No other nations moved as the intimidating tower began to walk towards his old charges. That was, until Ivan let out a small scream as Tino appeared next to him with a stern glare on his face.

"Leave them alone Ivan" the Finnish man demanded, voice a few pegs lower and multiple times scarier.

Lukas smiled at the Fin. Most people saw Tino as weak and dependent on his tree of a lover, but the small man could hold his own in a fight, and spent many years fighting, and defeating, Russia.

Without another word Tino proceeded to chase Ivan off the property while the Baltic states collapsed into a pile of unconscious bodies.

OoOoOoOoOo

Fifteen minutes later and the intruder was taken care of. The Baltics left for home, shortly followed by Tino and Berwald—but not before bidding goodbye to Lukas.

Everyone else began to congregate around the television, seeking out friends and lovers in anticipation for the New Year.

And once again, Lukas was alone and distanced from the rest of the party. Just when he was about to decide whether or not to head home early, a hand grasped his shoulder, causing the Norwegian to stiffen.

"Relax, it's just me" a deep, soothing voice chuckled from behind him.

Against his will, he felt his muscles relax as he turned to face the man that had plagued his thoughts for the last few days.

"Mathias…" he nearly whispered, heart beating a bit faster in his chest.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The Dane let his eyes wander quickly over the male in front of him, steeling himself to stay confident and follow through on the plan.

"I gotta talk to ya about something, Lukas" he mumbled, jerking his head towards the stairs. "Could we, uh, head upstairs real quick?"

Lukas regarded him curiously with slightly narrowed eyes before glancing at the room around them. Pairs of people were watching the television intently as the clock continued to count down.

30…29…28…27…

"Alright" he finally replied, following the Dane to the hallway upstairs. The noise from the living room were muffled, but still comprehendible. "What is it?"

Mathias licked his lips nervously, "Well, um…" he cleared his throat, "whatcha think of the party? Ya like it?" he asked. His eyes were focused on Lukas' shoulder, avoiding eye contact and, therefore, missing the look of surprise on the Norwegian's face.

There was a few moments of silence before he answered: "It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be."

A soft laugh vibrated through Mathias' body. "That's good," he brought his eyes up, almost shyly, until they locked with the Lukas' icy blue organs. "I put a lotta effort into it… especially the desserts" he admitted, biting his lower lip.

To his surprise, and joy, a small smile crept onto the Norwegian's lips. "I could tell; I cannot remember the last time I had multekrem on kransekake…" he murmured.

Mathias felt a surge of confidence run through his body as a grin stretched across his lips. "I'm glad."

He looked back into Lukas' eyes. "Ya know, I would have gone insane the past three days had I not been so intent on gettin' the party ready… and, of course, coz ya promised to come if I did" he admitted, grin melting into a soft smile, "I was counting on ya coming, and I'm glad ya did."

Suddenly, chanting wafted up from downstairs: "10…9…8…"

Lukas raised an eyebrow, "oh? Why was it so important to you that I came tonight?"

The Dane swallowed thickly, "Well, I… I wanted ya to come so I could tell you something." Lukas said nothing, clearly waiting for the taller male to explain.

"5...4…3…"

Instead of talking, Mathias took a deep breath before reaching around to gently thread his fingers into the soft hair on Lukas' head, his other hand cupping the Norwegian's cheek.

"2…1…!"

Without giving himself another moment to hesitate, the Dane moved forward and connected his lips to the soft ones that belonged to Lukas. The cheer of "zero" and "happy new year" were heard from downstairs, but Mathias paid no attention. The only thing that mattered was Lukas and his reaction.

OoOoOoOoOo

**January 1**

OoOoOoOoOo

Mathias could feel the smaller body stiffen in front of him, but he continued to softly move his lips and waited, desperately, for the other to react.

After a few tense heartbeats, Lukas' body relaxed ever so slightly and almost seemed to give into the pull of the kiss…

Before he abruptly shoved the Dane away. His ice-blue eyes were wide and slightly darker than normal; his body trembled ever so slightly; his mouth was agape and his hands were fisted at his sides. "Y-you…" he stammered, mouth opening and closing a few times before it hardened into a straight line.

Mathias felt his heart drop all the way to the soles of his feet. He took a step towards the Norwegian and begged, "Luke, lemme explain…"

The wide eyes narrowed as a cold glare was sent his way. Before Mathias could react again, Lukas turned heel and fled into the nearest room. The echoing click of the door's lock sent a bolt of icy dread through the spiky-haired blond's body.

"Fuck…"

* * *

><p><strong>Originally this was going to be split into two separate chapters, and be much more developed and longer but... eh, I have bad procrastination!<strong>

**On another note, I promise to have a new chapter of Loving a Cursed Heart up before the end of the week! Thank you all for the faves and follows, and to my [only] reviewer thusfar. I'm sorry about the slow updates of LaCH but... I am so so so glad you found this story not only enjoyable, but also funny (because that was the plan ahaha**

**Thank you Vermillion Jay, your review meant a lot :)  
><strong>

**Sorry to leave on a cliff, but you'll all see what happens with the epilogue...**

**Also, I've been stubborn the last couple of years and refused alcohol of any sorts (pride thing, really), but finally agreed to a few sips of champagne and red wine (to dip my ****pfeffernüsse in). I can't say I liked the wine on it's own, but the champagne wasn't bad and the cookies were VERY good dipped in the wine.**

**I'll let you all be now. Happy 2015! May your year be full of happiness, success, and perseverance!\**

**~Cheetay**


	5. Epilogue

**SO I wanted, really really wanted, to get this up on Valentines day (or, single's awareness day, or the eve of discount chocolate day...or just February 14th, whichever you prefer XD) And I was _almost_ successful, except I got distracted by Majora's Mask 3D... ...  
><strong>

**Anyway, here it is! I'm so glad for all the support and to everyone who enjoyed my New Year's (and Valentines?) story~**

**Enjoy! I own no Hetalia.**

* * *

><p>January 1<p>

OoOoOoOoOo

The red numbers on the clock read 10:43am. Many of the guests had left in a rush soon after midnight hit, their happy and slightly intoxicated minds eager to spend some alone time with their beloved partners and significant others.

There were only a few people left in Mathias' house; all of who he was working towards awakening and kicking out. Spain and Romano were among the first to leave once midnight hit, and Elizaveta and Austria among the last. Of course, the main reason for that was because she was taking pictures of the drowsy, lovey-dovey, kissing couples.

Germany and Italy had left a little after midnight, returning to Germany. Gilbert and Matthew also left rather quickly, apparently boarding a private jet in an attempt to beat the clock and return to Ontario, Canada before New Year's passed there as well.

The only pair left was that of Arthur and Alfred, neither interested in boarding a long flight back to the United States. There was also the lone, single Belgium sleeping in his guest room and a lone, snoring Romania that invaded his bathtub at some point last night. He wasn't worried about Belgium, knowing she would depart soon after she awoke, and would take on evicting the sharp-toothed European sometime after lunch.

Mathias entered his living room to find the American already awake and watching the Brit, who was sleeping on the couch. With a soft snort the Dane placed a mug of coffee, a cup of tea, and a glass of water on the table.

"When he wakes up make him drink the water before he starts on the tea, it takes his grouchiness away when hung-over" Mathias informed, knowing full well the Brit went overboard with the alcohol, even with the limited quarry.

Once he got a nod from the world-power, the Dane slipped back upstairs. His eyes lingered longingly on the shut and locked door that Lukas resided behind. Was he awake? Mathias was sure the male was still in the room, but for how much longer? The Dane could just break into the room, seeing as he had the key, but he respected the Norwegian's request to be left alone.

With a quiet sigh he shuffled to his own room, shut the door, and settled back in his bed with the intent of sleeping the rest of the morning away.

Lukas had left sometime after Mathias had fallen asleep, heading back to his own home in Norway.

When Mathias woke again, the clock read 1:27 and his house was empty…aside from the nation slumbering in his bath tub and all the leftover food. He still didn't quite feel like dealing with Romania, so instead Mathias set to work cleaning up from the night before.

He had to do something to keep him busy, after all that had happened.

OoOoOoOoOo

February 14

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Mathias opened the bedroom door quietly, his eyes immediately focusing on the small body bundled up beneath the bed's blankets. A small smile stretched unto his lips as he walked over and set a hot mug of coffee on the bedside table. The form began to move and groan softly as it reentered the conscious world.

"Morning, beautiful" He murmured, sitting beside the body with his own coffee. He chuckled when all he got in response was a soft grunt.

"Here, take your morning fuel" Mathias laughed, pressing the second coffee mug into the man's waiting hands.

This time he received a louder grunt, followed by a quiet "thanks."

"Did ya sleep well?" he asked, feeling light and happy in the other's presence.

"Fine" Lukas huffed, yawning. He sipped at his coffee before shifting his eyes over to the Dane.

"It's rather early for you to be up" he commented, turning his eyes back to the dark, fragrant liquid.

Mathias smiled, looking into his own mug. "I couldn't really sleep, so I figured I would get up and watch you sleep" he answered with a wink. A laugh bubbled up past his lips as a slight blush crept up on the Norwegian's cheeks.

"I'm just joking, Luke. I was actually up thinking" he admitted, shooting the other another grin.

Lukas raised an eyebrow, "You? Whatever could your simple mind have been thinking about?" He snorted, finishing his coffee.

Mathias set his half-empty mug down before turning to gently gather the other into his arms. "My New Year's Eve party" he murmured, placing a kiss between Lukas' brows. The winter's grasp was beginning to slowly loosen its hold over the North, but that day was forever ingrained in Mathias' mind.

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January 1—_Flashback_

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Mathias had just watched Lukas flee into his guest room, securely locking the door behind him and shattering his heart into tiny pieces.

"Mat! Mathias!" A voice called, coming up behind him. He turned to find Elizaveta grinning up at him, holding her camera out to him proudly. "I got a picture of that kiss! Want me to print one out for you?"

Mathias forced a smile before letting it fade to a pained grimace. "You can just delete it… I, it didn't go as planned. He ran off…" his fist clenched at his side, eye drifting to the closed door. He let loose a watery laugh before looking back at the Hungarian, "He doesn't feel the same, Liz."

The woman frowned, eyebrows creasing in confusion. "No," she stated, fiddling with her camera, "That can't be right. Look" she held the electronic out to him, showing the captured moment.

What Mathias saw took his breath away: he and Lukas kissing. Himself with eyes fully shut, but Lukas with his eyes opened a sliver; his face relaxed with one of his hands hovering just above Mathias' chest. As he continued to study it he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat, hope welling in him.

"He… he was smiling…" his voice came out quiet, barely registering as a breath. The picture clearly displayed the slight curve in Lukas' lips, so minute that Mathias hadn't felt it.

Elizaveta nodded, "Yeah. If I had to guess, he panicked and fled not because he doesn't feel the same way, but because he does." She flashed him a smile, "Because he likes you, Mathias. You just gotta chase him."

At that the Dane shook his head, "No, Luke needs some time to think. But… I'll try talking to him later, after most people leave" he decided.

The female gave a quiet hum, grabbing Mathias' hand. "Don't give up when there's still hope, Mat" she smiled once more before returning downstairs to an Austrian being harassed by an albino.

With great reluctance, Mathias tore his eyes away from the locked door and returned downstairs to the party.

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He stood by the door until the footsteps faded from the stairs and the hallway outside was silent. His body sagged to the ground as a heavy sigh passed from his lips.

The same lips that had been connected to Mathias' minutes before.

Lukas curled his trembling body into a tight ball and stared blankly into the guestroom. His face was an unhealthy red and his ice-blue eyes were dulled and unfocused, fogged over as his mind whirled with too many emotions.

Yet, as many thoughts that spun in his head, Lukas could catch only one of them: _He kissed me_.

His mind could focus on nothing other than that fact. He couldn't catch the "why did Mathias do that?" or "why did I let him?" or "Did I enjoy it?" or even the simple "where am I?"

No, besides the fact that the Dane had kissed him, Lukas was disconnected from the world—from himself, even.

After a few deep and even breathes, his heart and mind gradually slowed to a healthier speed. A pale, shaky hand reached up to touch its owner's lips, his mouth slightly agape in disbelief.

With his mind finally back in his control, Lukas could finally start sorting through the questions antagonizing his mind.

_'Mathias claimed he had something to tell me. Then he kissed me. Are they related..?'_ Lukas asked himself before shaking his head, refusing to jump to that conclusion. _'There had to be another reason for it. A bet, perhaps?'_

His heart clenched in his chest and disappointment rose like bile in his throat because, to Lukas, it sounded like something the stupid Dane would do.

Yet, to Lukas, Mathias could have also been stupid enough to _mean_ the kiss and had been, ultimately, telling Lukas something through it.

His mind flew through all the times Mathias had complimented, flirted, smiled, grinned, and invaded Lukas' personal space in the recent past. _'Does he actually l…love me?'_

_'When did he fall in love with me?'_

The Norwegian took another shaky breathe before staring at his hands. _'And I…I returned the kiss, so does that mean that I also…?'_

Suddenly, dread filled the nation's small body, causing a sob to erupt from his mouth. Lukas realized his folly; he realized that he had pushed Mathias away and fled. Horrified, Lukas curled onto the ground and began to cry.

_'I pushed him away… I denied him…'_

Another sob wrecked through his body.

_'When did _I_ fall in love with _him_?'_

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Mathias flashed a small smile at the remaining Countries as they prepared to leave. By one in the morning, all but six were gone; three were sleeping, one was pouting, the other was practically drooling over the pictures on her camera, and one was locked away in a guestroom. Overall, the house was quite.

Yet, Mathias found no comfort in that because it caused his mind to be filled with thoughts of a certain Norwegian.

A soft hand gripping his arm drew the Dane out of his dramatic thoughts.

"How are you fairing, Mat?" Elizaveta asked, concern and worry clouding the delighted and perverted shine in her eyes.

With a sigh, Mathias decided to share his inner turmoil with her: "I can't stop thinking about if I did something wrong, ya know? What if Lukas doesn't forgive me?"

"And before you mention the picture again," he huffed, cutting the Hungarian off, "it could have been a mistake. Maybe he was drunk or something…"

"Mathias" the female nation's voice was hard, "You'll never know unless you go and talk to him. _Confront him_, you idiot. Norway isn't the type to drink and you know it; nor is he one to smile" she snorted, "at _all_. I don't see why you're worried."

"Plus" Elizaveta continues, eyes gaining that perverted glow once again, "You two would be beyond perfect together. You complement each other's personalities but you both have the potential to bring the best out in each other."

The Dana felt his spirits life, "You're right, Liz, tha-"

"And" the excited female interrupted, holding her camera snug against her breasts, "You both have an air of dominance, which means that in the bedroom-"

"Okay, you're done!" Mathias squeaked—yes, _squeaked_. Like a mouse. Sure, the Dane was guilty of fanaticizing about Lukas naked, in bed, and… well, just because he's Denmark doesn't mean he isn't a man.

Either way, he didn't want _Elizaveta_ thinking about him and Lukas, well, possibly being intimate and—

_'Why the hell am I letting this muddle my mind?!'_ Mathias thought, a light pink dusting his cheeks.

Elizaveta's loud laugh echoed through the house, causing the two slumbering, English-speaking nations on the couch to stir. At once she ceased her laugh and watched as they settled back together, the American on the bottom with the Brit curled on his chest.

With a quiet squeal, the trigger-happy Hungarian began to do what she does best: take artisan pictures of two gay men.

Mathias flicked his eyes over to Roderich, "You might want to take her home now."

With a sullen sigh, the exhausted pianist set to work collecting his eccentric girlfriend and heading home.

With a "Thanks for everything, Liz," and a "Good luck, Mat," the two set off for home.

Gathering up every scrap of courage, Mathias walked up the stairs, down the hall, secured a key, and went to stand in front of the door to the room Lukas had escaped to.

Just like hours before, Mathias did not give himself time to think before he acted; he shoved the key into the hole and turned it, relaxing at the reassuring click.

The door echoed a slow, whining creak as it opened and allowed Mathias to see inside of it.

There, curled on the hardwood floor to the left of the bed, was Lukas. His body looked small and venerable.

Mathias felt his heart clench with worry. He attempted to move the Norwegian off the floor and into the guest bed without waking him. As he held the smaller male, he noticed how the beautiful body trembled and curled closer to his chest, as if seeking warmth and some comfort from the uneasy sleep.

Gently as he could, the Dane tucked Lukas into the warm bed. He removed the hairpin before caressing the pale, slumbering face in hopes to ease the tense facial expression.

"Oh, Lukas…" he murmured, a frown creasing his normally jolly face. He felt responsible for the state of the petite male, and it made guilt eat at his being.

He spent a few more moments watching his beloved sleep before turning away to exit the room.

Once he was within the reach of the door, he heard the bed creak and the quick approach of footsteps. Within seconds, small but strong arms were wrapped around his midsection and a face was pressed between his shoulder blades.

With his heart thumping against his ribcage, Mathias looked down at the hands clenching the shirt covering his stomach. His head felt light and dizzy as he carefully placed his hands over the smaller, balled up fists.

"Lukas..?" He whispered, trying to crane his neck around behind him.

"I'm sorry."

His heart skipped a beat and his breathe caught in his throat at the sad, broken voice. Mathias eased the fists open and turned around before embracing the Norwegian.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Nor. It was my fau-"

"No, it's not!" Lukas snapped, dragging himself from the enclosed arms. "You did nothing wrong, I did! I ran away like a coward" he growled, face twisted in pain.

Confused, the Dane frowned deeper. "What do you mean? I stepped over a line and you reacted-"

A loud sigh cut him off. Lukas appeared to shrink in size and he averted his eyes guiltily. "Tell me why."

Mathias blinked in confusion, "Why what, Nor-?"

"Why did you do it" Lukas whispered.

Everything clicked for the Dane in that moment. Lukas was nervous, but not mad. Had he hated the Dane, none of this would be going on right now.

"Why I kissed you?" He asked quietly, trying to catch the other's blue eyes. When he failed to do so, he let loose a sigh before explaining:

"It's simple, really" he began, gently grasping the Norwegian's chin and forcing their eyes to meet. "I kissed you because I love you, Lukas, and I was tired of not knowing how you felt about me.

"Perhaps it was selfish of me" he continued, entranced by the emotions swirling in the ice-blue eyes, "but I didn't want to wait anymore. I wanted to know if you liked me, in any definition of the word."

The ice-blue eyes closed and the silence ticked by tensely.

With a soft sigh, Mathias sunk onto the bed, "You don't have to say anything, Luke. I just wanted you to know how I feel—how I've felt for the longest time."

Lukas bit his lip before finally turning to face the Dane, who was staring calmly at him.

Taking a page from Mathias' book, the Norwegian stepped towards the other and quickly kissed him square on the lips.

With a relieved sigh, both melted into the sweet kiss; before it ended, Mathias pulled the other against him. Once they broke apart, a grin stretched across his lips and he pressed a chaste kiss against Lukas' forehead.

"Does that mean…?" came the hesitantly hopeful question.

All Lukas did was nod and lean heavily against the taller blond, closing his eyes.

Within moments the Norwegian was drifting to sleep, and all Mathias could do was grin and wrap both of them up in the bed covers. Soon after the pleased Dane followed suit and fell into the comfort of sleep.

He had his beloved, after all these years, and he would never let him go.

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Present Time – February 14

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Mathias grinned as he saw a smile form on the Norwegian's lips. The fond softness of Lukas' eyes made his heart leap into his throat and his hold on the other tighten.

"I'm so glad everything worked out that night" he muttered, pressing his face to Lukas' soft hair. "I was real worried that you'd hate me afterwards" Mathias let loose a happy, breathless laugh, "I'm so happy."

Lukas turned to Mathias and pressed a kiss to his cheek, murmuring bashfully, "I'm …happy, too, Mathias."

The Dane's eyes met his, silently begging him to continue and say more. In response Lukas closed his eyes and placed his head on Mathias' shoulders, complying.

"I thought I hated you, at first" he softly admitted, "you made me…feel things I didn't understand. I, well, I took it for granted that you were always around, annoying me. When you agreed to leave me alone in exchange for going to the party I...honestly thought you would fail."

Lukas took a deep breath, waiting for Mathias to say something—anything. Instead, he nodded and placed a kiss to the other's forehead, urging him once again to continue.

"I can't remember the last time you left me alone for more than a day" he scoffed, "If you weren't barging into my house, you were calling. And when I tried to ignore that, you would just continue calling until I picked up or would come burst into my house.

"I had so much time to myself, and I truly had no idea what to do with it." Lukas continued, admitting "I grew bored. I had nothing better to do besides indulged my thoughts." He hesitated before adding, "Most of them were about you. Thinking back, it was obvious that I…w-well,"

"That you loved me, too" Mathias finished for him, giving a sweet, gentle smile.

"You weren't mad that I…left, were you?" he asked softly. Lukas remembered waking up later the day of their first (and second) kiss, and panicking. He could barely believe what had happened, and had to retreat home to sort out his thoughts.

Not before, of course, leaving a note for the Dane.

The Danish man grinned softly, "Of course not, Luke. I've known you for a long time" he placed a kiss to Lukas' temple, "You had to organize the chaos you felt. Either way you returned and became mine."

Lukas snorted with laughter, "Oh, I'm yours? How do you know you're not _mine_?" he growled.

Mathias smirked, excited at the Norwegian's attitude. In the last month and a half, Lukas had become very comfortable around the Dane and began to show more of his true personality.

The taller pulled the smaller flush against him, relishing the feeling of Lukas' lips on his.

He could get used to this.

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Meanwhile, elsewhere in the world, two blonds arrived at a barren airport—one sleeping peacefully while the other loaded their bags into the rented truck.

Once the luggage was taken care of, the American returned to the small plane to carefully wake the snoozing Brit.

"Hey Artie, wake up. We're here."

The green-eyed blond cracked an eye open and wrinkled his nose.

"Why the bloody hell is it so cold, then?" He grumbled, "I thought South Carolina was warm."

Alfred laughed, "South Carolina _is_ warm, Art. The thing is, we're in Alaska right now" he gave a sneaky grin.

Arthur took a moment to process that in his sleepy brain, before exploding with a "_What_?!"

"Well, I wanted to go someplace away from everyone" Alfred shrugged, reaching for the other's hand. "Ya know, it a cabin in the middle of the woods. Where we could hike, ice-skate, build an igloo, or cuddle…"

The Brit sighed, "I should be mad, but I also should have expected this."

"It _is_ my holiday for love today, Art" Alfred hummed, sweeping the smaller male into his arms bridal style. "And we're off!"

"A-Alfred, what—no, put me—put me _down_!"

"No way Artie! You're mine for the rest of the night!"

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Gilbert watched with a bored expression as the padded nations floated back and forth across the ice rink.

Four Countries were facing off in two's in an aggressive game of hockey: Finland and Sweden against Matthew and Russia.

Gilbert felt his face twist in annoyance at the sight of the Russian bastard. Yet, at the same time, he felt his lower region stir at the sight of his Canadian cursing, snarling, body-checking, and still gliding gracefully at the same time.

He was just perfect.

He didn't know if he could control his awesome five meters.

He was really lucky the game was almost over. Finland launched the puck towards the goal; Matthew dove towards it in an attempt to deflect it, but failed; the puck hit the net and the timer went off.

He watched as his Canadian threw his helmet at the (also aggressive) Fin and they started to size one another up.

He laughed as Sweden flung Finland over his shoulder and trudged off towards the locker room, successfully breaking up the fight before it began.

He grinned as he caught Matthew's dark purple eyes—enraged with loss but bright with excitement and adrenaline.

Knowing what the Canadian wanted, Gilbert exited the rink and set off to warm up the car in the fringed Northern Winter.

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Gilbert shivered as he was pressed against the bedroom wall, his body trapped by the blond currently attacking his mouth.

Just before the moment could get too steamy, a sound reached their ears that neither wanted to hear: the ringtone of a cell phone.

"Ignore it" he rasped, capturing Matthews mouth in another heated kiss.

Moments later, Matthew's cell could be heard. Immediately the two recognized the ringtone—the one a perverted Frenchmen had picked for his "son."

With a quiet sigh, the blond answered the phone with a polite yet strained, "Hello?"

Matthew's eyes flickered to Gilbert and he smirked, "Oui, he's in the room." He then laughed, face becoming slightly pink, "Oui, you did, but it's fine."

"Gilbert, Francis wants to talk to you" he chuckled, handing the phone over. He then leaned over and whispered, "Meet me in the kitchen once you're done" before exiting the room.

Once the Canadian left, Gilbert snarled, "What the hell Francis?"

_"Ah, hello to you too Gilbert. How are you?"_

"Me? I'm freaking annoyed" he growled out, "You disappear for over a fucking month, and they you call _now_ and completely cockblock me and Matty!"

_"Well good! Why should I let you do whatever you want with mon petit Mattieu?"_ the Frenchmen laughed on the other line.

"You-just—shut up you slut" Gilbert huffed, "What hole have you been in all this time?"

_"Ah, well, it was a very moist—"_

"Don't continue that sentence, Franny, please" Gilbert laughed, plopping down on the bed.

_"Ah, well, you could say that I was on a journey for love~"_ Francis purred. _"I traveled to remote villages in my Country in search of beautiful men and woman."_

"So, you've just been bed jumping."

_"Oui, you could say that. I did meet someone, though. A very nice someone."_

"Oh really? Some human chick?" Gilbert grunted, looking longingly in the direction of the kitchen.

_"Ah, perhaps so. Or perhaps not~"_

"Well, whatever. You're back now, so we gonna get together sometime? I owe you a punch for that damn voicemail stunt you pulled, you ass."

_"Oui oui, as soon as I can we shall swipe Toni. I must bid adieu now though, my dearest Prussian."_

"Fine. See ya, Frenchy."

He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed before stalking out of the room, looking forward to what was to come.

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The girlish giggle echoed through the large estate. Tucked safely in her dark room, the Hungarian worked on processing and copying photos for later use.

A sharp knock on the revolving door broke the yaoi trance, along with the call of "lunch of done."

With a dull sigh, Elizaveta finished the photo and hung it up to dry. Carefully she cleaned up the darkroom before exiting it and wandering into the dining room with the waiting Austrian.

"Have fun, Elizaveta?" Roderich asked, his voice dry and accusing.

"Hm..?" the woman hummed, taking a seat besides the other. "What do you mean, dear?"

The cravat-wearing pianist sighed, face falling sullenly, "You have been so focused on developing all your pictures the past few weeks."

Elizaveta smirked, letting loose a chuckle, "What, are you jealous Roddy?"

She snickered as his face blushed.

Padding quietly over to him, she straddled his lap and pulled him into a slow, sweet kiss. "You have my attention for the rest of the night, Roderich" she whispered lowly into his ear, "What have you got in mind?"

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you have it! The Epilogue of New Year's Kiss. I feel like I botched a lot of the fluff...hopefully it's not as bad as I think. I just... can't do romanticmushy stuff very well, I guess?  
><strong>

**I shall start working on some other stories (yes, including LaCH) but I still have school to worry about (because seriously, 18 credits was too much... bleh).**

**Leave a review and let me know what you thought :) Not that I'm done with this, I'm going to go back through and edit it all because I found a lot of small mistakes that bother me and I need to fix.**

**ALSO ALSO ALSO, I might add an extra Epilogue chapter next New Years. So look forward to that :) I don't know what I'll put in it yet, but I have a loong time to worry about it.**

**For now, I'll let you leave everything up to your imagination *wink***

**Thank you all for the patients! Hope it was worth it for you.**

_**~Cheetay**_


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